


Torture

by Blue_Kat



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bondage, Breaking, Electrocution, FAHC, Flogging, GTA AU, Gen, Mutilation, Torture, it was gonna be hot, then shit went wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Kat/pseuds/Blue_Kat
Summary: Jeremy and Ryan were going to have some fun. An enemy of the Fakes decided that he'd take advantage.





	Torture

"Jeremy come on!" Ryan whined, already frustrated with the other’s caution. 

"It’ll hold, we'll be fine!"

"I dunno Ry," Jeremy grimaced, "I hope the bolts work but couldn't this wait until we could cement them in?"

Ryan was suspended by his hands to a wooden beam via manacles. The beam then connected to two posts, bolted to the floor. The structure wasn't going anywhere. They would be  _ fine _ as Ryan kept trying to assure his partner.

"Enough." Ryan snapped to attention at the sudden shift in tone, underwear beginning to tent. "I make the rules here, understand?"

Ryan nodded fervently, breath catching as Jeremy purveyed his tools for the session.

He picked up the riding crop, ever one to take it slow, to play with Ryan, tease him. He advanced with a smirk on his face, Ryan straining against the manacles  _ towards _ the "threat".

The thud of something heavy against wood had them both jumping, both men turning to the door. The wood splintered, remainder of the door falling inwards. Stood in the doorway was a figure both men recognised, a figure that made them both pale to be caught in such a compromising position by him.

Not to mention, how the fuck had Monroe, head of the Lost Motorcycle Gang, gotten into the fucking penthouse of the Fake AH crew?

"Well now, ain't this an interesting sight."

Jeremy lunged for a gun on the table, god he hoped it was the loaded one.

"Stay back!"

Monroe simply raised an eyebrow. "Really now boy, that a smart decision in your current predicament?"

He brandished his own gun, lazily waving it in Ryan's direction. Jeremy lowered his.

"You know what to do"

Men slipped either side of Monroe, grabbing Jeremy and subduing him, kicking him down to his knees, head forced down so he was bowed before Monroe. The gang boss stepped forward and Jeremy swore he could see blood on the man's heavy boots. Fresh blood.  _ The others _ .

"Now then," Monroe patted his bald head, making Jeremy shudder, "there's a good boy." He turned away, stalking to Ryan, "you got your friend here all ready for us."

Ryan stared him down, gaze unflinching as Monroe grabbed his jaw. "Who do we have here then?"

"You ain't that new kid Alfredo. You're way too old. I got Ramsey and Patillo upstairs. Now that just leaves... well now," his grin widened, "well now ain't this my lucky day? The vagabond all strung up like a christmas turkey"

As he released Ryan and took a step back, Ryan spat in his face. Monroe's grin faded, he didn't look mad, instead the smile was replaced with a quiet malice, face darkening. He didn't even strike Ryan, nor wipe the spit from his face. He simply turned away, perusing the table of toys Jeremy had set up.

He didn't pick anything, instead reaching for the riding crop Jeremy had discarded upon Monroe's entrance.

"You either did something real bad or real  _ good _ to end up like this, vagabond. Lets see how "good" I can make you feel hmm?"

His first swing split the flesh of Ryan's cheek.

Ryan remained impassive, only a small grunt escaping him.

Jeremy struggled against the men holding him, hissed in pain as his arms were twisted to an unbearable degree. He wasn't going to be able to stop this any time soon.

Monroe circled his prey, tongue wetting his lips as he savoured his captive. "I can see why he likes this so much," a strike against the back of Ryan's thighs had him arching away from the pain, back bowing as he gasped at the sudden shock of it. "Really makes you feel good," against Ryan's bicep, making him hiss as his other arm suddenly took more of his weight. "You're just a little bitch ain't ya? You fuckers get off on this." It was the strike to his crotch that made Ryan fully cry out, unable to curl in on himself, he went limp against the manacles, breathing heavily through the aftershocks of pain

Monroe slid the tip of crop under Ryan's chin, tilting his head back up to look at his abuser, at the soft smile on his face. "This is what happens for disrespecting me boy." He struck Ryan across the face again. One way and then the next. Until Ryan was dizzy from the back and forth of it, his face on fire from the multitude of blows. Some broke skin, some simply left welts, all caused pain.

When Monroe had enough, he simply dropped the whip, turning back to his table of goodies. Ryan was trembling now, sweat dripping down his face, stinging as it fell into the fresh wounds.

He picked up a blade next, running his thumb along its edge and tutting at the bluntness of it. He threw it to the floor in disgust, the harsh clatter making both his captives flinch.

The next he came to had Jeremy struggling again. It was always sharp, used only for cutting ropes loose, never for use on Ryan himself. His left arm gave in with a crack and Jeremy screamed. The manacles jangled as Ryan suddenly began to fight, legs flailing uselessly as he tried to get free and at Jeremy's captors.

Monroe soon had him still again, placing the tip of the blade against Ryan's navel, looking almost bored as Ryan locked eyes with him, something surprisingly close to fear in the vagabond’s eyes.

"Thats better. Now then, up or down?"

"Up."

He slapped Ryan hard, "did I say you could talk? I was asking your friend. Up or down boy?"

"Up." It was a no brainer really.

"Down it is!"

"No! Up! I said up!"

"I heard you first time boy. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen."

The blade bit into flesh, making Ryan grit his teeth. He wouldn't scream, he wouldn't give Monroe that satisfaction.

He could feel muscle tissue tearing like wet cloth, the meat unzipping in an unpleasant feeling that made Ryan want to throw up.

Monroe paused as he got to the hem of Ryan's boxers, grinned up at the man currently with his head turned sideways, eyes squeezed shut and whole body tense.

Monroe pulled the clothing and continued slicing, smooth glide changing to a sawing motion as he worked the flesh of Ryan’s groin, blood flowing freely.

He got to just above ryans genitals when his captive finally cried out, "stop, stop, please!"

"Well now, since you asked  _ so _ nicely."

Monroe straightened up and Ryan sobbed in relief, tears flowing unchecked as he trembled, whole body shivering as if he were a cow covered in flies.

He plunged the knife into Ryan's thigh, tearing screams from his victim anew.

Ryan thrashed, attempting to twist away from Monroe. But manacles are not like handcuffs. You cannot swing and spin around, you're forced to face whatever direction you're pinned. All his struggling did was widen the slice down his front, delicate flesh splitting further.

"Enough of that racket." Monroe turned back to the table, he knew what he wanted, "and be glad I'm merciful." 

The sight of the ball gag had Ryan relaxing his jaw on automatic, a brief flash of surprise showed on Monroe's face before he pulled the gag painfully tight. Ryan could only give a pathetic whimper, nostrils flaring as he desperately tried to get enough air.

He was almost glad of being gagged.  _ It was better than the alternative of a removed tongue. _

Monroe went back to the table and Ryan's eyes widened as he began tugging at cables, disentangling them with a confused expression on his face. "The fuck..." he found the ends, found the battery pack, brain slowly turning over as it processed what exactly he had in front of him.

"Don’t."

Monroe turned to Jeremy, fury in his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Don't use that. Please."

"And why would I listen to you?"

"If you don't know how to use it you'll kill him!"

"I may not know how to use it... but you do."

"What?"

"You're going to instruct me."

"Fuck you!"

In response his guards twisted his broken arm, any further verbal resistance cut off as he screamed.

"Either you help me or I kill him. Entirely up to you boy."

"Plug the red cable into the left side, blue into the right."

"There now, was that so hard?"

He found the poles himself, grinning as he advanced on Ryan, brandishing the electrodes like the weapons they now were.

"Stop."

"Excuse me?"

"You can't use both on his chest. If you do it'll arc through his heart and kill him." Jeremy couldn't look at Ryan, his voice was clear, but his body trembled, he was going to hurt Ryan, genuinely  _ hurt _ him. He felt sick to his stomach.

There was a quiet buzz of electricity and Monroe made a disappointed noise. "Not very impressive."

"It's not," Jeremy lied, "we use it as an early tease. Build excitement. That sort of thing."

"And this dial on the side of the box is just for show huh?"

Jeremy swallowed as Monroe sneered. "Break his other arm, i don't tolerate liars."

This time Ryan didn't struggle as Jeremy screamed. He knew what was coming next for himself, knew he needed to save his strength, try not to break.

Monroe turned the dial to full voltage.

He tested it against the vagabond’s arm first, enjoying the way it made his victim jerk involuntarily, whining through the gag.

The kneecap next, eyes lighting with fascination as Ryan's leg jerked straight, ligaments contracting under the stimulation.

He began to get creative, dancing around Ryan with childish glee, twirling the poles to a tune only Monroe could here. Every so often he'd bring them down on Ryan's flesh, making Ryan whine and jerk like a puppet on a string.

He paused mid swing, scowling at how Ryan would always flinch before he'd strike, always ready for the blow and pain to come.

"We need to fix that."

There were plenty of bindings and blindfolds on the table. Monroe picked up a silk blindfold, enjoying the feel of the delicate fabric running through his fingers. "Genuine silk. Only the best for the vagabond, hmm?"

Darkness covered Ryan’s vision and Monroe went back to work. He went straight for Ryan's ass, making him writhe, straining against his manacles. He couldn't take much more of this...

He jerked as the poles made contact with his face, flinched when they followed him, pressing against his face, the sudden jolt of painful electricity making Ryan squeal through the gag.

"Like a roast hog." Monroe stood back, admiring his plaything.

Ryan hung limp from his wrists, knees buckled uselessly. Blood, sweat and tears mixed on his face, drool dribbled freely down his chin and onto his chest.

"Pathetic. Fucking pathetic." Ryan didn't even raise his head at the insult, tremors of electricity still arcing through his body.

"Mmhss." The garbled word was barely more than a whisper, but Monroe stepped forward again, sneering.

"What was that?" He ripped the gag free, tossing it towards Jeremy in disgust when he saw the shiny string of saliva connecting it to Ryan's lips.

"Cactus."

"What?"

"CACTUS!"

"You fucking lost it or something?"

Ryan simply continued to sob the word, over and over.

"Cactus. It means stop. It means he can't take any more." Jeremy's voice was robotic, face vacant.  _ He had caused this. _

"Good."

He dropped the poles, turning back to the table and picking up a flogging whip. "I want to hear you beg vagabond, I want to hear you scream for mercy. Maybe then I'll stop."

Monroe didn't bother with test strikes. This weapon, at least, was familiar to him. His first strike marked, second ripping Ryan's back open. Ryan didn't bother trying to hold back his screams of agony. He was done, mind gone to hide, letting his body respond however it wanted to the unending pain.

He kept screaming when Monroe finished, voice going hoarse with strain. Eventually it devolved to sobs that wracked his body, unashamed weeping at everything he'd been put through.

Monroe found the key to the manacles and released him, Ryan's body falling to the floor like a corpse, smashing his face into cold stone. He didn't care. It was just more pain.

A boot stamped on his face, Ryan simply mewled, fingers curling as feeling returned to them.

The boot came down again and Ryan was glad of the darkness encroaching on his vision.

Another hit and he was out cold, blood  pouring down his face, old wounds opening afresh alongside new.

"Time to put old yeller down." Monroe reached for a pistol, grinning down at Ryan's prone form. Jeremy sobbed, just glad Ryan was unconscious for this final act.

"Make sure he watches. If he doesn't keep his eyes open I'll dig them out with a poker."

Hands held his head in place, the other guard ensuring both his arms stayed restrained. Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut. He wouldn't watch.  _ He couldn’t _ .

Monroe pulled the trigger.

Jeremy screamed, eyes still shut, at the sound of the gun discharging. He bowed forwards, crumbing his face against his knees as he began to sob uncontrollably.

The hands left him there as two more gunshots rang out. They were mutilating his corpse? Why wouldn't they just leave him alone. Why did that have to do this.

They dragged him to his feet, Jeremy screaming anew as they pulled on his ruined arms. He struggled wildly, thrashing and throwing his head blindly at his captors.

"Jeremy! Jeremy it's us, open your eyes!"

They were going to make him look, they were going to make him look at Ryan's corpse. He'd rather take the pokers.

A blow to the back of his head set fireworks off beneath his eyelids. He fell to his knees, strong hands catching him before he could fall face first. The last thing he heard before collapsing was Geoff's voice, "what the fuck..."

He came to with both his arms in casts. The familiar white walls and disinfectant smell of the infirmary calming him.

_ Ryan. _

He moved to sit up and a tattooed hand gently pressed him back down. "Easy there buddy, take it easy."

"Ryan?" He croaked.

"In the bed right next to you, we've got you." Geoff looked haggard, black eyes and bruises all up one side of his face, fingers of his left hand splinted. There was blood staining his shirt.

Ryan was on a respirator, still out cold. He looked like a corpse, eyes sunken, grey skin blotched with bruises and lacerations. A thin sheet covered the rest of him, Jeremy dreaded to think how he'd feel once he woke up, the pain lying on his back would cause him.

"Get some rest Jeremy. You're safe."

Safe. He wasn't going to feel safe for a long time.

 

**Author's Note:**

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